Family Reunion
by trianqles
Summary: Alcor the Dreambender is summoned by someone... unexpected. Transcendence AU. Incoherent fluffy drabble. Oneshot(?)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: having been consumed by the Transcendence AU, here's a little something that's been floating around for a while. There's gonna be fluff and feels probably? Most likely a one-shot, might continue if it's well-liked.**

Alcor the Dreambender, Dipper Pines, knew something was out of the ordinary as soon as the summons tugged at his gut. He was in a sour mood, and under normal circumstances would have dismissed the summons and retired to his personal pocket of the Mindscape for some well-deserved rest, however, this was no casual summons, he felt. Something about it was desperate.

It beckoned.

He resigned himself to its pull, tessering into existence at the location of the summons. His heart wrenched as a paralyzing wave of nausea washed over him, or the distant impression of it, anyway. Physical feelings were always dull and muted, but that didn't stop the horror that slithered up his throat as he stared, wide-eyed at his summoners.

There was no dingy basement, thank the Gods- cults were incredibly unimaginative and he was frankly quite tired of seeing them, there was no sacrificial virgin or innocent woodland animal bleeding at his feet. The setting was almost frighteningly mundane, he thought, as he hovered a little less than a foot over the penciled-in summoning circle on the kitchen floor, tainted only by two small drops of blood against the peachy tile.

The kitchen floor of the Pines family residence, in Piedmont, California.

Dipper felt a knot rise in his stomach as he stared at his parents' faces, looking a little more lined and tired than he'd last seen them, but no worse for wear. The muddled blues, yellows and greens that swam in their auras betrayed their feelings.

Hatred. Sadness. Fear.

There was no recognition behind their uncertainty- the fledgling demon wasn't sure whether to be glad or absolutely crushed that that was so.

But his musing would have to wait, he realized, as the awkward silence grew.

" **Who are you, and why have you summoned me, Alcor the Dreambender?** " He asked, notably devoid of his usual theatrics. He asked, knowing the answer in the back of his mind but deciding to hear it from them. He could pretend to be normal, at least in that sense.

"W-well," his mother stuttered, "I am Anna and this is my husband, Mark Pines."

Dipper nodded knowingly, toying with his cufflinks and smoothing down his tailcoat.

"And we want to know if it would be possible," she swallowed hard, drawing away as though she expected him to smite her at any moment, "for you to bring back our son?"

His heart dropped.

The demon let his dark eyes drift away, a soft sigh escaping him as he bobbed in midair. " **Sorry,** " he murmured, sounding more apologetic than he'd meant to. " **I... I can't bring back the dead.** "

The pair looked devastated, deflated, but Mark- his father- steeled himself to ask another question.

"Could you tell us, then, if we did alright?" His voice wavered, and Dipper found himself wanting to cry. "Was there anything we could've done? Anything to have kept from losing him?"

A shard of self-loathing made him squirm as it pierced his gut, but he had to do this. There was always a price, and besides...

" **I can tell you all you like about your son,** " he deadpanned- if he didn't, he'd surely break down. " **But in exchange, I want an evening.** "

Anna Pines looked so bewildered, Dipper almost thought to revoke the deal, but steeled himself and waited for her to recover.

"An evening?" She echoed. The demon could taste the bitter fear in her aura, and almost recoiled. There were too many almosts for his liking during this particular summons, he decided. He would need a long break before accepting another.

Dipper nodded, " **That's right. I will tell you all you want to know in exchange for spending an evening with you. I can't replace what you lost, but we can pretend for a while.** "

Mark's fear was etched on his features, glimmering in his eyes. He was looking desperately for loopholes, and Dipper knew there were many, but his parents weren't exactly the demon-summoning type. They were lucky it was him and not another demon, he thought with an internal shudder. They'd given him their true names without hesitation, and would be long dead or enslaved if that were the case.

"I don't understand what's in it for you," Mark ventured.

Dipper shrugged, letting his melancholy show as he drooped a little in midair. " **Being a demon's more stressful than you'd think. I need to relax a while.** " It wasn't a total lie.

Mark and Anna exchanged glances before Anna spoke guardedly, "We'll take it."

Dipper nodded, holding out his hand as it ignited with hungry blue fire. The normal jolt of giddiness that accompanied the sealing of a deal made him squirm delightedly, but he managed to keep his expression blank.

Before their eyes, he shrunk a little until he was the size of a child, leathery wings fading away as his teeth turned dull, ears round and eyes clear. His finely pressed slacks and tailcoat were replaced by a loose pair of cargo shorts and T-shirt, dress shoes becoming sneakers and top hat disappearing with a faint ' _pop_.' He shuddered a little as corporeality struck him, the cold kitchen air making goosebumps appear on his pale skin.

Mark and Anna Pines both bristled, full of unease and horror at seeing a demon morph into near-perfect clone of their dead twelve-year-old son, but the expression on the kid's face was so earnest that they couldn't help but embrace him. Maybe the demon was doing this on purpose. Maybe it knew how much they needed to see Dipper, even if it wasn't real.

The demon child gave a melancholy smile. He looked just like Dipper, Anna mused, right down to the birthmark on his forehead peeking out from under his tousled curls. The only thing was the eyes- they were a mesmerizing liquid brown, just like Dipper's had been, but they were infinitely sadder. Wiser, older.

So incredibly sad, full of remorse and exhaustion.

Dipper couldn't believe this. He wanted to cry and scream and bury his head into his parents and wail until his emotions were spent, but maintained his stoic expression.

Slowly, his parents grew less hesitant. They wandered over to the couch, inviting him to sit beside them. Eventually the wide berth they offered him was closed as he smuggled close between them. An old ghost-hunting flick, one his parents had always hated, had been picked as they snuggled up for the movie night. Dipper watched intently, making snide comments about how bad the special effect were or how he could totally do better, and laughing at the bad jokes, just like the old days.

He kicked himself a little when he sensed the feelings coming off his parents, something between suspicion and hopefulness. He seized up when his mother spoke.

"You're acting just like him," said Anna with a hopeful smile, the kind that was subdued, prepared for disappointment. "did you practice or is this just coincidence?"

Dipper purred in amusement, just drawing closer and enjoying their company.

However, all good things must come to an end. Once the room darkened and the film's credits rolled idly down the screen, Mark and Anna both stiffened. He had to spill now.

" **He loves you,** " said Dipper. If he ever had a chance to speak his heart, it was now. " **He couldn't have asked for better parents. He misses you a lot, every day,** " His eyes flitted up to meet his parents' before darting away as he continued. " **He doesn't want you to be sad. There's nothing you could've done and he doesn't want you to blame yourselves. He just wants you to take good care of his sister… And to forgive her.** "

There was a long silence.

"Are you telling the truth?" Mark breathed.

Dipper nodded slowly, biting his lip.

"So," Anna ventured, voice soft and motherly and irresistibly drawing Dipper in to rest his head in her lap. "Why did you really want this evening?"

The young demon's breath hitched. "I wanted to pretend, like I said." He caught the Pines' questioning stares, and continued. "I wanted to make like I had a family, if only for a little while."

"Do demons have families?"

Dipper shook his head. He made to say something more, but silenced himself.

"I see."

"If only Mabel knew," he breathed. He thought it was under his breath but Anna heard it loud and clear.

"What'd you say?"

He shrugged a little, sitting up and crossing his legs, scooting forward as not to be swallowed up by the couch cushions. "M-my sister, Mizar."

"I thought demons didn't have families." Anna's sly smile made Dipper relax a little.

He rubbed at the back of his neck. "It's complicated." His eyes flitted to the clock, then between Mark and Anna's faces. "It's late," he murmured, "I guess the deal's done so I should be going."

The young demon made to disengage from the couch and tesser away with a snap of his fingers, but Mark's firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"You can stay the night," he offered awkwardly. "Stay the night and have breakfast, too, if you'll help clean up afterwards."

Dipper smirked. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

"Is it a deal?"

" **Deal.** "


	2. Author's Note

**Aah hello there you guys!**

 **Just wanna clear some stuff up here. :D**

 **1\. This takes place in kind of an AU of an AU? I guess? It's like an alternate universe OF the Transcendence AU, in which Dipper never made himself known to his parents or other friends/family. He's been watching over them in secret, but Mabel could never see him and so there was never a way for his presence to be known.**

 **2\. Unless there's a continuity error in my writing, I don't think Dipper ever mentions his true name, which is Dipper Pines, to his parents. As far as they know, he's Alcor the Dreambender, which is an alias to prevent his true name from being revealed in the first place. ? Being called by Alcor wouldn't assert control over him.**

 **3\. Mark and Anna pick Dipper because Alcor the Dreambender has already established his reputation for being relatively fair and trustworthy, at least as far as demons go, and having a soft spot for children. I don't have a specific timeframe in mind but it'd most likely be a few years after the Transcendence- long enough for Dipper to have built up a fair amount of power without regressing in sanity.**

 **4\. The story's been out for what, an hour at the time of this chapter being posted? I've already started writing up the events of the following morning, and if it continues to be taken well I'll write more after that! If you have any ideas or thoughts as to what you might like to see or if I have any errors in the writing. :)**

 **Cheers and get ready for the next chapter soon! (Sorry to disappoint haha, if you got this in your alerts and got excited I apologize for that. ; o ; )**


	3. Epilogue

Dipper awoke slowly. He remembered having had a very strange dream the night before. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, just… Odd. It had felt very, very real at the time. He nuzzled into the blankets, letting out a contented sigh as he took in the warm haze of half-sleep.

As reluctant as he was to leave his nest of blankets, there was the scent of something delicious wafting from the nearby kitchen that he couldn't resist, so Dipper sat up slowly, yawning and wiping sleep from his eyes.

He wandered sleepily into the kitchen, following his nose towards the scent of what he suspected were homemade waffles- no doubt his father's doing. In his tired stupor, he wondered if the kitchen counter had always been so short, and whether or not Mabel was still sleeping or had already gotten up.

"Mornin'," he greeted, coming up beside his father as he poured batter into a waffle iron that confirmed Dipper's suspicions, much to his delight.

He had not expected Mark Pines to jump and shriek like a mad cat on crack.

He had _certainly_ not expected him to shrink away in fear as he reached out to help his father up.

He had _not at all_ expected to be met with a sudden splash of water to the back of the neck, and for that water to be _holy_ and to _burn and hurt and_ not _in the hilarious way._

Dipper hissed through his teeth, gingerly covering the burnt skin and trying his very hardest not to curse with the worst words he knew as the water, which may as well have been acid, began to trickle down between his shoulderblades, burning on its way down.

Anna's eyes were wide with remorse and fear as he whipped around to face his attacker. It took him a second too long to realize that he was baring his teeth at her like an animal, and hungry yellow fire streamed from his eyes. He snuffed it out as quickly as he could, but the damage was done.

Neither of them would meet his eyes. At first he thought it was from fear, but upon closer inspection their auras simultaneously pulsated with the burnt yellow-green of guilt that overwhelmed the bruised purples and blues of their terror. Dipper felt the same.

There was a long silence before Anna's maternal instincts must have kicked in- she couldn't help that she saw her son, even if it was actually a demon that lived in his skin at the moment. She knelt down, reaching tentatively to tend to the wound on his neck, "No, no, Dippe- sorry! I meant Alcor, oh god!"

Everyone froze. Anna looked like she would burst out in tears at any second, fear glittering in her eyes. She had just attacked and then had the gall to call a powerful demon by the _nickname_ of her dead son. He would kill her; he'd eat her soul for her insolence and then use her empty corpse as a puppet for the rest of eternity. He'd-

"Sorry for the scare," Dipper finally murmured, "I forgot where I was." His gaze flitted between his parents before coming to rest on the floor between his feet. "I'll be back. Gotta take care of the burn. Call me when food's ready."

And with that he sighed softly and padded upstairs, leaving Mark and Anna with the time they must have needed to talk. He knew exactly where the upstairs bathroom was, but found himself drifting to the threshold of his old bedroom anyway. His things were untouched- just as he'd left them, at the beginning of that fateful summer. Hot tears pricked at his eyes but he blinked them away and moved to the bathroom.

He knew where they kept the rubbing alcohol and gauze, and took it out from under the sink. He removed his shirt and twisted his head around as far as it could comfortably go, turning his body so he could see the extent of the damage in the mirror. He cooled and disinfected the wound, cringing, but eventually decided that the blisters weren't all that bad and didn't need to be bandaged. After all, the wound would disappear soon after he returned to the Mindscape. This was just about his comfort on the physical plane. Once he was done, he decided to focus a little on cleaning himself up.

In the mirror, he noted that he was no longer in his twelve-year-old human form but drifted somewhere in between human and demon at his actual age in his late teens, almost twenty. His ears were pointed somewhat, canine teeth a little larger and sharper than what was normal for a human, and eyes gleamed a pale, milky yellow with slitted pupils. It would probably be somewhat shocking to have his impish visage pop up beside someone. He didn't blame his father one bit.

He slipped into a more human appearance with minimal effort, replacing his shirt, washing his face and pushing his tousled hair behind his ears, the way his mother always liked it. Then, Dipper, crept tentatively back to his old room. He would give his parents time and space, and in the meantime, he would reminisce.

#

Dipper's parents stood in tolerable silence in the kitchen as Mark peeled the blackened remains of what had been intended to become a waffle from the iron.

Mark finally shuddered, fingers ghosting over where the kid- no, _Alcor the Dreambender_ had brushed against his arm. "The w-way he approached me," he stammered, horrified. "He had this look…" he trailed off again, hanging helplessly somewhere between hope and terror.

There was a pregnant pause before Anna spoke. "He said he 'forgot.' He 'forgot where he was.' What does that mean?"

Mark shrugged with another shiver. "I want to say he's messing with us but, this really doesn't seem right- he's just so... He…"

"There's no way," Anna said firmly, more to convince herself than anything else, "There's just none."

Silence swelled and grew like a cancer before they finally stood and returned to their morning activities. It seemed like the waffles took far too long to prepare, but soon they were ready and steaming, and Anna ventured upstairs to fetch the Pines' demonic houseguest.

He wasn't in the bathroom, or the hall, or Mr. and Mrs. Pines' room. Anna's heart dropped to her feet as she realized which room she hadn't yet checked.

She tentatively eased the door open, stealing a glance inside. Alcor sat on Dipper's old bed, she saw, and inadvertently shivered.

The demon seemed impossibly small, cross-legged with his face buried into his hands. For a split second, Anna wondered if _it_ was possible; he talked like Dipper, moved like Dipper, even beneath the jerking, predatory movements, like a bird of prey. At the moment, he looked like Dipper, too. She could see something yellow and wet on his face, briefly wondering if this strange demonic fluid would wash out, before she realized that they were shining golden tears.

"A-alcor?"

He lifted his head slowly, sullenly even as big, salty tears left shining wet streaks behind on his cheeks. " **What?** " The simple question came out slow and dark, any traces of the pleasantly reedy tenor he had spoke with before drowned in eldritch reverb.

Anna knew when she wasn't wanted. "S-sorry," she spluttered, stepping back. She shook a little, and inwardly kicked herself for even hoping that there was good in him, let alone that this thing was somehow her son. Sure, he could bear a striking resemblance if it pleased him, but this was Alcor the Dreambender- a demon known to slaughter his own cults if they did anything to displease him, as trivial as using the wrong candles to summon him. A merciless, bloodthirsty monster is what he was. He was taking advantage of her grief-

At least Anna thought so before a nearly full-grown imitation of her son threw himself into her. She squirmed, swearing she could feel the edges of needle-sharp teeth against her neck, but they never took the opportunity to bite down. Wetness seeped into her shoulder, and she realized that what she'd mistaken for angry huffing wasn't so at all. Shuddering sobs racked the demon's body as he cried into her shoulder, wiry arms pinning her in place against him.

" **Oh, God! Oh God, what have I done!?** " He wailed through his sobbing, shining golden tears dripping from his nose and down the back of Anna's neck. They were hot and slightly corrosive; enough to sting her skin without doing any real damage. While they did not truly harm her, they sent a shudder of terror crawling down her spine.

Anna's breath hitched in her throat as she instinctively drew away from the inhuman whimpers that shook them, Alcor keening like an animal in his distress. He trembled, gasping and burying his face into her chest as his weeping subsided. For a long moment, they just swayed against one another, a hushed gasp catching in Anna's throat as inky black wings appeared from Alcor's lower back, mirroring the motion of his arms and wrapping protectively around her.

At some point as they stood silently in the hallway, Mark had wandered upstairs. Anna hadn't heard him approach, not with the demon's face buried firmly in the crook of her neck- a vulnerable position that demanded her utmost attention. Alcor didn't look up, but the wing closer to Mark opened, inviting him to join them in their embrace. Haltingly, Mark moved in to do so, if only because he wanted Anna to be safe, and the wing settled itself against him, a gentle pressure on his lower back. They were soft, he noted dimly, like velvet, and pulsing with warm life. He tentatively reached out, gently fingering the taut skin and marveling at the slow, steady pulse of blood through the thin flesh; very much alive. Mark could speak for both of them when he said neither he nor Anna had ever thought of demons, especially one of Alcor's caliber, to be living things.

There was silence for a moment, but just as Mr. and Mrs. Pines began to relax, a low rumble from Alcor broke the pleasant silence. At first they thought he was growling, but the longer they listened the the closer they came to the realization that Alcor was _purring_.

"D-" Anna stole a glance over Alcor's shoulder at Mark, who gave her an indecipherable look in return. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Dipper?"

Alcor emitted a choked sort of gurgle, cutting off his hesitantly contented sounds. His fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt like claws, but did not tear through to rake against her skin. All three of them tensed, Anna likely the most as she felt the demon's arms, coiled with near-unnoticeable wiry muscle, stiffen and tighten their grip. He looked lanky from a distance, but those thin arms, deceitfully powerful, were a lot less underwhelming up close.

Slowly, the demon lifted his head. His dark, alien eyes were full of sorrow and a spark of something familiar. He seemed to be done crying, but the glittering tear tracks that lined his cheeks betrayed his emotions. "M-mom, I-" he shook his head, raking his fingers through his hair and stepping back. His inky wings drew back against his sides, curling inwards as though he was trying to hug himself. As he stepped back, he seemed to shrink, his head lowering to hang between his shoulders like a turtle retreating into its shell. He seemed to be under the impression that if he could make himself look small enough, none of this horror would ever have happened as he shrunk down to the size of a tiny twelve year old boy.

A part of Anna recoiled, insisting that there was danger here, but the other part came forward. She knelt down to the now-tiny demon's level, crouching down and sitting on the floor as he fell complacently into her lap, tiny body still heaving with sobs. She caressed his back in small circles, murmuring softly and carding her fingers soothingly through his hair as he wept.

Both of them knew now; things would not be okay. Not for a long time if they were lucky.

But Anna knew this much: monsters were not born. Dipper, _Alcor_ was not evil at his core. She could feel the heavy weight of his fear in the air, like drowning, swallowing her up and making her throat constrict in apprehension.

He was terror and rage, a blaze of wicked claws and jagged teeth as he tore through the flesh of mortals, a lesser god as he toyed with their souls before swallowing them whole. A wicked cheshire grin is what he was, thundering cackles full of sadism and condescension. He was eldritch fire and hatred and slaughter and an all-consuming desire to _hurt_. That is what Alcor the Dreambender was, full of furor and inhumanity and lust unrivaled by any other demon known to man. Alcor left a swath of pain and hatred in his wake, ravaged bodies and viscera plastered to the walls and floors like morbid paintings of his abomination. But he was more than that.

He was fear and self-loathing, horrified at what he'd been forced to become. He was melancholy and quiet, tiny and insignificant; crushed by his own omniscience as it consumed him like fire over an iridescent oil-slick. A morose smile, uncurling on his face like a drop of ink suspended in water, and laughter like thunder and bells; he was this behind the facade of demonic rage. He was a guardian of the innocent and the meek, a protector of children and teacher to the untaught. Dipper Pines watched over those who no longer knew him, caressing them each night with the warm cradles of sweet dreams.

And while things were certainly not okay, and likely never would be, Mark and Anna and Dipper Pines could hold each other and pretend that such a thing was so.


End file.
